


Like Thunder, Like Fire, Like Tenderness and Desire

by crossroadswrite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Dragon Derek Hale, Dragon Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Getting Together, Librarian Derek Hale, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not that Derek has a business, especially not with Stiles because- because that’s not something that would happen. Ever. Stiles is annoying and loud and he does this thing with his wings where they just never stay still and-</p>
<p>“Derek! My favorite librarian,” Stiles greets with a grin and a half, approaching the circular desk. His messenger bag slips precariously down his shoulder and he contorts his wing, catching the strap with his wing thumb and setting it back into place.</p>
<p>Derek looks away, typing gibberish into his laptop to seem like he’s busy.</p>
<p>It’s not like he cares how skilled Stiles’ wings look. It’s not like he cares how broad and strong looking they are, how utterly breathtaking they are with their night sky blue primary and their thunder pattern of bright incandescent white, like lightning got caught in them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Thunder, Like Fire, Like Tenderness and Desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lena_221b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena_221b/gifts).



> one day i'll be able to not take on new little projects like this and actually finish the stuff I have going on. today is not that day and meanwhile we blame it all on [lena](http://lena221b.tumblr.com)

“What do you think you’re doing?” Derek puffs, a tendril of smoke escaping through his nose as he towers above the teenagers currently trying to light up a joint in the back of his library. He lets his wings fan out over his back and arch threateningly.

The three fae kids startle, looking up at him with wide eyes, scrambling up and make a break for the library’s front door, bare feet hitting the soft carpet.

Derek squints after them threateningly and huffs again, carefully picking up a book they had thrown on the floor and taking it with him back towards the front desk.

 “What’s got you huffin’ and puffin’ there boss?” Boyd asks from inside the circular desk, typing away at the keyboard with practiced ease.

“Youths,” Derek grumbles.

“Put the fear of the gods into them?” Boyd asks, smile quirking his lips in amusement.

Derek’s only response is to tuck his wings behind his back carefully and to set the book down next to his keyboard to put away when he has a minute.

He loves to work at the library, where there are books piling high on the shelves and everyone (or mostly everyone) has the decency to stay quiet. It’s one of the only places on earth where he can tell people to shut the fuck up and they will.

Laura likes to make fun of him and say it’s because the books in the library feel like his own personal hoard, pokes him on the side and tugs on the tip of one of Derek’s horns playfully and asks if the collection he has at home isn’t enough.

Derek normally tells her to fuck off and normally Laura goes on to teasing him about how _maybe_ what he likes is the eye-candy.

“Yes, Laura. Old, troll descendant, eighty-year-old Mr. Barney is what gets my blood going,” he quips.

Laura stretches one of her auburn wings and lays it across his like she used to do ever since they were little and she learned that teasing was a thing.

“Hm yeah? Because a little birdy told me that you might be interested in a _certain_ college student.”

“Fucking Boyd,” Derek mutters darkly.

Laura laughs and tells him, “I’m trying.”

Which is about the time Derek finds something to get busy with because his sister’s lowkey crush on Boyd isn’t something he wants to think about or ever address. Ever.

Anyway, Boyd is a little shithead who can’t keep his big head out of Derek’s business.

Not that Derek has a business, especially not with Stiles because- because that’s not something that would happen. _Ever_. Stiles is annoying and loud and he does this thing with his wings where they just _never stay still and-_

“Derek! My favorite librarian,” Stiles greets with a grin and a half, approaching the circular desk. His messenger bag slips precariously down his shoulder and he contorts his wing, catching the strap with his wing thumb and setting it back into place.

Derek looks away, typing gibberish into his laptop to seem like he’s busy.

It’s not like he cares how skilled Stiles’ wings look. It’s not like he cares how broad and strong looking they are, how utterly breathtaking they are with their night sky blue primary and their thunder pattern of bright incandescent white, like lightning got caught in them.

Stiles’ forearms come into his direct line of sight when he decides to lean against the desk and Derek almost chokes on his spit which his ridiculous. Everything is ridiculous because Stiles’ forearms aren’t even _special_ alright. Who cares how strong looking they are or how his tattoos twist and turn and reach, curiously running up and down his arms, going so far as to crawl up to his neck and stare into Derek’s soul.

“Not even gonna say hi,” Stiles pouts, leaning forward and practically shoving his face against Derek’s, wings fanning out on his back to keep him balanced.

“Hi,” he spits out. “There are you happy?”

Stiles smiles his gorgeous smile, sharp canines grinning up at Derek. “Ecstatic,” he says and Derek finds himself suppressing his smile, wings shuffling self-consciously on his back.

Stiles’ eyes turn soft.

“Great. I’ve said hi. You’ve said hi. Now you can leave,” Derek tells him because he’s doing important work here and doesn’t need a distraction.

Stiles pouts. “Don’t be like that or I’ll go ask Boyd for help.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I don’t care who you ask for help,” he lies and Stiles grins.

“Liar liar,” he singsongs.

“Am not.”

“Are too. Your wings twitch when you lie. It’s the cutest thing.”

Derek feels his face eating up, which is to say something, given how warm he already runs, his veins are basically molten lava and ash.

“Come on, Der. Help a poor college student out.” Stiles blinks wide wet eyes at him, pouting a little bit, a smirk hidden on the corner of his lips. “Please,” he begs.

Derek huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose, exhales a thin tendril of smoke before he gives up on ignoring Stiles and gives in.

Like he always does.

Every single day for the past five months Stiles has been coming to the library.

 

[Art by disappointedtbh](http://disappointedtbh.tumblr.com/post/130591386419/basically-i-read-this-amazing-fanfic-yes-with-a)

 

“Fine. What do you need?”

Stiles beams like the sun.

“I’m doing this paper about sex toys and I need you to help me.”

Derek opens his mouth. Closes it again and then sighs. “I don’t even know how I’m still surprised.”

Stiles laughs and his wings start curving forward, almost like they’re reaching for Derek, which is stupid because touching someone with your wings is something you do with family and lovers and Stiles isn’t interested in him.

Stiles is all vibrant motion, gorgeous as lightning itself and Derek is just- dirty corrupting fire, wings scared and holed from his mistakes.

“Follow me,” he says abruptly, pushing his chair backwards and vaulting over the desk, the only way to get in or out.

Stiles follows him, standing too close to Derek, with his wings fluttering just inches apart from Derek’s as he goes on a rant about Bad Dragon and their disgusting advertisement of dragon dildos, _like seriously Derek my_ dick _is offended_.

Derek listens to him intently and pretends he doesn’t.

«»

“Derek!” Stiles shouts bursting through the doors of the library and Derek turns an unholy glare at him.

“De-“

Derek shushes him aggressively, motioning with a hand around to the place they’re in.

“Oh,” Stiles says and then more quietly, “Sorry sorry sorry. I forgot.”

He trips over himself to reach the front desk, digging a claw mark in it when he overbalances and has to use the his wing thumb for purchase.

Derek sighs down at it, before he makes his eyes trip back to Stiles’ beaming face.

The other dragon holds a piece of paper to his face and shakes it.

“I aced it! I aced my paper about sex toys thanks to you!”

Erica burst into laughter and falls out of her chair behind him.

Derek ignores her.

“Good.”

Stiles pops like a balloon and Derek immediately feels like he just burned an entire village of orphans.

“I mean, um. I’m happy for you. And, um, proud. I didn’t have any doubt you would ace it in the first place.”

Stiles beam turns up to supernova potency again as he bounces a little on the balls of his feet, wings curving and reaching and stilling before they can touch.

“So,” he starts. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab coffee with me. As a thankyou.”

Derek drops his eyes down to his desk computer and feels his wings curve over his arms, wrapping tight. “You don’t have to pay me for helping you Stiles.”

Stiles probably feels obligated to do something for Derek for all the help he’s been giving him these last months and this is not what it’s supposed to be about. If Stiles ever asks him out this is not what Derek wants it to be about.

Not that Stiles would ever consider actually asking him out of interest. It’s not like that.

“I _know_ and it’s not paying you. It’s a thankyou. I’m thankful.”

Derek presses his lips together. “I’m sure you are.”

Stiles frowns down at him, wings fluttering anxiously and one hand going to rub at his hair, thumb catching on one of his curled horns and stroking twice before dropping his hand limply.

Then Stiles sighs. “I need you to say no.”

“What?”

Stiles looks him in the eyes and Derek gets momentarily caught in how much like amber they look like.

Derek has never been much for collecting gemstones like some other dragons seem prone to. His thing has always been books, hence working at a library because while hoarding is something dragons do often, they are past the middle ages and a loft isn’t the best place to fill with gold coins if you want to be comfortable and not get robbed.

Normally each dragon’s hoard and kept in storages that you can rent, so you can still get that sense of rightness without things overflowing your apartment.

Some, like Derek, find jobs in areas that deal with what they hoard so he always kind of feels like he’s surrounded by a rich immense hoard, pleasing the loud urge to just gather whatever he needs to at bay.

“I need you to say no,” Stiles repeats. “To dating me. I’ve been coming here four five months now and I keep thinking maybe today is the day Derek will notice me. Maybe today is the day I ask him out and he says yes. But it never is and I’ve asked you out thirty times over and you keep giving me half rejections and I just need you to tell me you don’t like me so I can move on from this pathetic crush.”

Derek opens his mouth, closes it as his face slowly heats up until his skin is almost incandescent with it.

“You like me?” he asks, pretending his voice doesn’t break at the last word.

Stiles frowns, wings restless, feet shuffling as if he’s trying to get his footing after not receiving the answer he had been expecting.

“I’ve been flirting with you since day one. I have _literally_ asked you out, like, at least twenty times.”

“I though you were joking. I thought. I thought you felt obliged to pay me for helping you or something.”

Stiles blinks at him his wings rubbing together over his back once, a tiny spark of electricity bursting at the contact.

“You thought I didn’t mean it,” he says very slowly.

“If I knew you meant it I would’ve said yes,” he tells Stiles truthfully.

“You’d have said yes?” Stiles asks and how can Derek have been so blind. How could he have missed something like this.

How didn’t he notice the way Stiles’ chest expands with hope and how his wings fan out as wide as they can go and quiver with excitement, all of him, a live current brimming with restrained energy.

“Yes.”

“So. So if I asked you out for coffee now. You’d say yes, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’d say yes or yes you’ll go on a date with me?”

Derek huffs a little breath. “Both.”

“Cool, pick you up when you get out at five,” Stiles grins.

Derek huffs again, hoping that if he blows a little smoke his cheeks will cool down a little. “Okay.”

“Okay!” Stiles cheers. “See you then Derek.” And then he walks away, a bounce in his step and wings fluttering like he’s about to take flight.

Derek looks down at his keyboard, heart beating too fast in his chest and one wing coming up so he can hide from the world for a little bit.

Sadly hiding behind his wings doesn’t take his sense of hearing away.

“Aww, you cutiepie,” Erica coos. “Isaac owes me fifty dollar. Thanks boss. Two more days and he would’ve won the bet.”

Derek groans and lets his forehead rest against the leather smoothness of his wing.

«»

“I thought you were picking me up to _get_ coffee,” Derek says when he exits the library to see Stiles there waiting for him with two cups of coffee in his hands.

“Well I thought we could just take a walk in the park or something. Coffee shops tend to be a little overcrowded this time of the day,” Stiles says reasonably, offering a cup to Derek which he takes carefully.

He knows that crowds aren’t really a problem for Stiles. He knows that Stiles is doing this because he knows exactly how much Derek doesn’t like to be surrounded by people, how uneasy he feels, and he can’t help the shy smile that climbs on his lips at that.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, letting himself walk a little closer to Stiles even if at this distance their wings run the risk of accidentally touching.

Stiles smiles down at his coffee, pleased.

Derek has to look away from the sight of a pleased Stiles, and especially a pleased Stiles because of _him_ because Stiles decided to do something nice and Derek liked it and he feels pleased for pleasing Derek.

He takes a small sip from his drink and his eyes widen slightly with surprise when warm tea hits his tongue instead of coffee.

“You brought me tea?” he asks.

“You don’t like coffee,” Stiles shrugs like it’s that simple, like noticing what Derek likes and dislikes isn’t such an extraordinary thing to do.

Derek looks over at him and just- stares. Watches for a little bit, breath shortening when faced with the easy happiness Stiles seems to be exuding.

These are things he knows about Stiles: he’s loud and sometimes obnoxious, he _never_ shuts up which doesn’t help the being loud thing, he can’t stand still for two minutes straight and if he tried Derek is afraid his brain would start leaking out of his ears. He’s a live wire. He’s stubborn and strong-opinioned and gets in your face. He has a way of _making_ you notice him and then never stop noticing him.

These are also things he knows about Stiles: he’s not loud when he’s researching something or when he decides to have a serious conversation with Derek, he always picks up books with such care that something in Derek’s heart settles when he sees it. He’s strong-opinioned and fun and funny, he pays attention to every single little thing. He pays attention to Derek like he matters.

Derek very slowly and very carefully arches one of his wings, black as a black hole and very much ironically holed from trusting all the wrong people, arches it over Stiles’ back very carefully, trying not to touch Stiles’. Not yet.

That’s not how it works. Derek made the first move and Stiles has to make the next one.

Derek holds his breath, afraid he won’t, but after a second Stiles turns to him, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in disbelieving awe before he reciprocates, reaching over with his electric bright wings and touching Derek’s.

It’s like a punch to the stomach the contact, Stiles’ smoother wings against Derek’s cracked ones and it feels so intimate, almost like a promise.

Stiles is smiling at him and this time it’s not a beam or a smirk, it’s a soft smile, mostly around his eyes. It’s a quiet, fond smile. It’s _Derek’s_ smile.

Stiles scoots closer to Derek on the sidewalk, sliding their wings together smoothly making Derek blush.

If there was an equivalent for this to humans it would be a fusion between a kiss and holding hands. Intimacy and gentleness.

“Get a room,” someone grumbles as they speed walk past them. Stiles laughs and catches Derek by the hand, linking their fingers together just before reaching over with his lips and touching Derek’s very softly.

Derek sighs into it like one would sigh after carrying a weight for too long and finally being allowed to drop it.

He’s got his wing on Stiles’ and his hand on Stiles’ and his lips’ on Stiles’ and for the first time in a long time it sort of feels like flying again.

**Author's Note:**

> dragonsdragonsdraGONSDRAGONSDRAGONSDRAGONSDR _AGONSDRAGONSDRAGONSDRAGONSDRAGONSDRAGON **SDRGONSDRAGONSDRAGONSDRAGONSDRAGONSDR A G O N S D R A G O N S D R A G O N S**_
> 
> Come over to [my tumblr](http://crossroadswrite.tumblr.com) and talk dragons and sterek to me I will love you forever and ever.
> 
> **EDIT:** The ever amazing and talented [disappointedtbh on tumblr](http://disappointedtbh.tumblr.com/tagged/art-stuff) drew me some fanart!!! And I have been screaming about it forever and ever ohmygosh. Please go check them out and send them all the love.


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